Valley News -

By Nancy Lea Speer
Special to Anza Valley Outlook 

"Some Things Wondrous"

 

Last updated 12/7/2018 at 2:37am



Six a.m.

November 10.

Wrapped in the arms of his loving wife,

my brother, Davey, slipped from life.

Some things wondrous I recall.

January 21.

1951.

Davey came home to me.

I held my brother, small as could be,

as a few brief moments oozed ecstasy.

Some things wondrous I recall.

The day before Davey passed,

I clasped

his long-fingered-wood-crafter-hand in mine –

my oldest friend in this lifetime,

who knew me at my worst and still

honored me as only a brother will.

Something wondrous I treasure.

November 19.

A sad-happy departure-scene.

I stare at his body, lifeless, lean,

and a vision of fences he urged me to climb,

saunters into my sad-mind.

From neighbor-to-neighbor’s yards we’d leap,

squealing and laughing trying to keep

from falling or tripping, we scaled them all.

When, startled, the ice cream truck’s da-da-dum-dum,

signaled our moment to jump and run

home to Mom, who’d scrounge in her purse

for dimes and nickels

we’d trade for fudgsicles.

Something wondrous I recall.

November 19.

A sad-happy scene.

Sad for the passing of Davey’s life.

Happy, no, grateful, for his wife,

who loved Davey deeply, heart and soul,

as a husband-beloved, gracious and kind.

As a friend, he was generous, loyal, too.

As a father, flawed, yet loving and true.

Six precious grandbabies carry his light

and write

letters of love for Grandpa, who

loved them good as Grandpas do.

His body has passed, but Davey is here.

In the hearts of his loved ones who feel him near.

Through the sadness and the pain,

Some things wondrous do remain.

 

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